Not Your Fault
by fanwriter314
Summary: After experiencing a life-altering event, Elizabeth is willing to give Mr. Darcy a chance after his horrible Hunsford proposal. But once she reveals the truth, what will he think of her? Can they survive the truth? Not really smutty, just deals with more adult topics.
1. Chapter 1

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you," pleaded Mr. Darcy. He continued, quite tragically, to explain how the circumstances of their acquaintance have been the cause of his struggles, and he had finally decided to overcome those obstacles to humble himself to ask for his dear Miss Elizabeth's hand.

Blankly, Elizabeth stared back at him. She wanted to yell and scream and explain why she thought him to be haughty and undeserving of her hand. She wanted to, but she didn't. Instead, she stared at him for a good few minutes, until she requested that they both sat down.

Once comfortable, Elizabeth thought to herself and considered everything she had heard about the man. She knew at least one to be false, and was still quite curious about the truth of the other accusations she could have laid at his feet.

"Sir," Elizabeth finally said after a long pause, "I appreciate the struggle you have been through, and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done. However, after that contemptuous proposal, and the things I myself have observed, along with the stories circulated about you, I cannot accept your proposal."

His face fell and his countenance shifted from tight nervousness to tragic defeat at these words. It was upon seeing this desperateness that Elizabeth finally resolved to convince him of a different approach.

"However, I would not reject you if you requested a courtship. You have thoroughly insulted me through your proposal, and though I am sensible enough to realize that all of your obstacles are accurate and indisputable, they are hardly sentiments that will conjure affection," whispered Elizabeth, fighting with her own emotions, a mix of anger, contempt, sadness, and somehow, longing.

At her words, Mr. Darcy's head shot up and an apologetically rueful smile covered his face. It was that smile, with sadness still in his eyes that Elizabeth realized he had dimples. Realizing how handsome he was, even with such hopeful pain drawn across his face, Elizabeth was forced to catch her breath. After a half-second pause, he flew over to where she was sitting, and on one knee, pleaded for forgiveness and lavished her with thanks.

"Please forgive my oafish behavior. I was so wrapped up with how I felt that I didn't once consider how you felt. I am most grateful for your kindness in bestowing upon me a second chance. Would you please do me the great honor of accepting my proposal of courtship?" he requested, pleading so vehemently it seemed he was begging her to spare his life.

"Yes, I will court you. And the first discussion I wish to have as a courting couple is of great importance. I want to clear the air between us. Not quite start anew, but relieve any discomforting thoughts and rumors. I wish for you to explain somethings to me, and I want to reveal something to you of the upmost secrecy, and you must promise to never breathe a word of my secret," stated Elizabeth.

"I promise," was Mr. Darcy's single reply.

"Good. Shall we take a walk outside. This small house is far to stifling for me to air out all that must be said, and as I am sure you are aware, I take great joy in walking. In fact, I have been called an excellent walker by one of our most estimable mutual acquaintances," Elizabeth suggested with a sly grin, relieving some of the tension that the conversation had created.

With a slight chuckle and an eager nod, Mr. Darcy stood and offered Elizabeth his arm. She immediately accepted and placed her light fingers around his sturdy forearm. The couple then silently exited the abode to walk the park.

After a few minutes of utter silence, Elizabeth, always the brave soul, finally spoke.

"Sir, I want to ask you a question, not meant to anger, but to ask why. Your Fitzwilliam cousin informed me that you broke up a friend from an unfortunate match. I, of course, deduce quite quickly that he was speaking about my beloved sister and your friend Mr. Bingley. So, I just wish to know why."

"I removed Mr. Bingley from Hertfordshire because, as a friend, I believed it my responsibility. I could claim the reason to be the belief that your family was to be inferior, or that it was because your mercenary mother was so strongly advocating the match, but it was because I believed him to be more attached than she, and I did not wish him to be caught in an uneven marriage," he stated. As soon as he had spouted the words, he realized the insult and repent-fully added, "but I never thought of you that way. I knew you did not agree with your mother's intentions because of your reactions to her speeches. I am sorry that I did feel that way about your mother, but I am trying to speak only in truths."

Breathing deeply, Elizabeth answered, "I do not hold it against you that you were wary when it came to my mother. I know she only wants the best for us, no matter how much she harasses me for not being as pretty and as likeable as Jane or Lydia. I do ask, however, why you assumed to understand my sister. She acted in a respectful manner, paying polite attentions to your friend, and yet you scrutinize her for not fawning over him like other young ladies, much like my two youngest sisters. Can you not see the hypocrisy, sir? Furthermore, my sister is shy. She barely reveals her true feelings to me. And her true feelings regarding your friend were of strong admiration, and she is now feeling great pain from the loss of his company."

By the end of her speech, Elizabeth was fighting back her venomous tongue, even though she knew he deserved to be heavily berated. She knew what really mattered now was to better observe his character. A man of good character would not only admit his faults, but also take it upon himself to fix the situation, with no personal incentive required.

With an overwhelming feeling of remorse, Mr. Darcy spoke in a sad tone much more befitting a small child caught doing something naughty, "How could I be so obtuse? I am extremely sorry for what I have done, and I will do everything in my power to fix it. It is no wonder you find me to be selfish and vile. I thought I was doing my friend some good, by protecting his heart, but instead I have created great pain to two kind people."

Realizing that he had been well intentioned, even if the actions had hurt Jane, Elizabeth forgave him. Instead of saying anything, however, she gave him a weak smile and gently squeezed his arm. They continued their walk in silence for a few more minutes until Mr. Darcy finally broke the quiet.

"Is there anything else you wish to discuss? I'd rather get everything cleared now, so that we might be able to better come to know each other without any shortcomings or feelings of anger to stunt the growth."

Trying to decide where to next go, Elizabeth finally decided to ask a question to heal her own pride.

"On the first night of our acquaintance, the Meryton assembly, I overheard you tell Mr. Bingley that I was not handsome enough to tempt you," she said. She allowed a brief pause after feeling his entire body stiffen at her words, before she continued by saying, "I was not trying to eavesdrop, but I was right behind you, and I heard the discussion never the less. Since then, I have assumed you greatly disliked me, because every time we encounter, I catch you staring at me with a look that could only be searching for fault. Why, after so much distain, did you humble yourself to ask for my hand? Why could you say that you loved me after attacking me with your glares for so long?"

Stopping abruptly and turning to face her, he said, "I am sorry that you heard me utter such an insult, and I feel I must once again request that you accept my most sincere apologies. I must explain that by saying that to Charles, I was rather trying to get him to leave me alone. I was in a poor mood as my mind was determined to focus on an event that had recently caused my family some great trouble. I was not even aware of who he was speaking. I was thoroughly distracted and the only reason I was even at the assembly was at the request of Charles."

Elizabeth, at hearing his words of apology, realizing she had assumed the worst and had pledged to hate the man without knowing the truth of his then mood, blushed vibrantly and looked down at her feet. Upon seeing what he could only describe as the most beautiful shade of red, Darcy found himself lost for words. Only after taking a deep breath and clearing his mind was he able to further explain to him her why he had acted so coldly.

"As for staring at you, I was not looking for a fault. I was so entranced by your uncommon beauty, that I sometimes berated myself for not being strong enough to look away. I was never placing you under scrutiny, not the angel that I was fighting to look away from. I was in awe of your intelligent eyes and how they sparkled with mirth whenever you spoke of something you found amusing. I enjoyed trying to decipher what you were thinking and what you were planning to do or say next by how your facial expressions changed. I even found happiness and joy in admiring your countenance when you were thinking of witty remarks meant to tease me. If only I had realized that you were not teasing me out of mutual admiration, but to berate me for my unkind behavior towards you. And I have never hated you, I just hated myself for being so enchanted by you."

Flattered by hearing the most vehement praise of her beauty she had ever heard, spoken from the last man she had ever expected, Elizabeth looked back up at him and was once again surprised by how handsome he was. His piercing green eyes, his dark waves that adorned his head, and his sad smile that played upon his lips that was just barely noticeable, all surprised her. How could she have been so blind as to not only miss the true character of the man, his affections for her, but also be ignorant of his easy beauty?

Determined to be kind to the new man that had shone through his aloof exterior and her own stone wall prejudices, she let out a little giggle of joy and put him at ease with a calm response of, "Don't bog yourself down too far in misunderstanding my teasing. I tease everyone."

At this he let out a husky laugh, and they continued their walk down the path.


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth's mind was racing. How could she have been so wrong about this man? She had never misread anyone as much as she had him. Everything she had thought, had judged him for, it had all been wrong. Why did she have to be so stubborn, so headstrong?

"I know what you're doing. You are angry that you were wrong. I can tell by the scowl you have on your face. It's the only reason I could imagine you to be so angry. But based on what you have told me, how could you have known? Everything I ever did around you would have convinced you that I was the most odious man of your acquaintance. Besides, it no longer matters what you thought. Can we agree to just move past it? I would personally rather get to know the beautiful woman on my arm, and leave any regret behind."

With a blush for being so openly complimented, Elizabeth banished her scowl and replaced it with a melancholy smile.

"I would love that. But, now I most definitely need to reveal my secret, for it might change the way you think of me, and I do not want to hide it from you, especially since you have laid yourself out just so I could finally be convinced of your goodness."

"Shall we sit?" Darcy asked, as he gestured towards a bench that sat on the edge of the path they had been walking along. With a slight nod from Elizabeth, they both sat down and faced each other.

With a deep breath, Elizabeth began her confession. "I must admit, the only reason I gave you a chance to explain yourself was because one of the major accusations that I had against you has recently been proven wrong. It was made clear that the story that this person told me was inaccurate due to their vile actions that followed their so-called confession."

Elizabeth again paused, trying to slow her thoughts and calm her breath. Trying to sooth her obvious distress, Darcy took her delicate hands in his and rubbed them gently. This brazen display of affection did the opposite, as Elizabeth's breath once again hitched. She looked away from him trying to focus.

Finally, she said, "I was told a slanderous tale from Mr. Wickham." Immediately, Mr. Darcy stiffened, but she forced herself to continue.

"He told me that you were raised together, as he was your father's godson. He then imparted that in your father's will, he left Wickham a position in the church. He then said, that upon your father's passing, you withheld this position. I believed him, at first. That was, until, his actions revealed to me that he was a vile creature, and that no matter how much I despised you, you could never be as evil as him."

At this point, there were tears running down Elizabeth's cheeks, burning the skin from her anger. She felt so weak, she was beginning to tremble, and without thinking, Darcy wiped away her tears, allowing his hand to caress her face for slightly longer than was necessary, until he realized himself and retracted his hand.

"You don't have to continue."

"No! No, I need to. I need you to understand what happened," she replied, almost shouting.

"I was taking my morning walk one day, just a few weeks after the militia had come into town, when I unexpectedly came across Mr. Wickham. He said that he had been headed to Longborne to call on me, and asked if he could escort me the rest of the way there. I thought nothing of it, as he had always been a gentleman towards me, and I accepted his request. As we walked, he became a little too familiar. He began to use my Christian name, and I repeatedly told him that I had permitted no such thing. Still he persisted. Then he began to touch me in improper places, and I began to yell at him, saying that he had no right and that he should leave me alone."

Once more, Elizabeth paused to catch her breath. She was fighting back tears, but knew she needed to persevere. As she had been telling her story, she had not noticed the murderous anger that filled Mr. Darcy's eyes. All he could see was red, and the man that would pay was long overdue. He continued to struggle against his anger, however, because he knew what Elizabeth really needed most was for him to listen and comfort her.

"After a few minutes of me trying to escape his company, he grabbed my hands and pushed me towards a shallow ditch that was set on the side of the road. He threw me on my back, and on the impact, everything became fuzzy. My ears were ringing and my vision blurred. Before I could scream, he grabbed my throat with one hand and began choking me. With his other hand, he began to tear at my clothes. All I could do was squirm and fight. He…tried…to…take,"

Elizabeth was now a blubbering heap of tears. All Darcy could do was control his malignant anger and take her into a gentle embrace to comfort her shaking body. They sat like this for several minutes, until Elizabeth could control her tears enough to finish her heartbreaking story.

"Just before he reached my undergarments, I was able to grab hold of a rock and strike him on the temple as hard as I could. I wasn't sure if he was dead or not. All I knew was his body went limp, and I got out from underneath him. Then I ran. I ran faster than I ever had, until I saw Longborne. I then entered the house through the kitchens and went to my room. All I could think to do was cover any evidence of what had happened. I changed my dress and hid my other one, knowing I'd have to discard of it, for fear that people would begin to ask what had happened if they saw the tares and holes that the ordeal had caused. Then I fixed my hair and cleaned my face and formulated a story. I knew that I had to make up something, and decided that saying that I tripped whilst on my walk and had fallen into a ditch would be a sufficient story. Everyone believed me. My mother, as she is, only squawked that she always thought my ramblings around were unladylike, and that what had happened had been a long time coming. As Jane was in London at the time, none of my sisters really cared, barely even noticing that anything had happened. My father decided it was easier just to let it be, and returned to his books and port. The only person who seemed to question my story was Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper. I told her it was nothing, but I know she knew I was lying. Still she relented, knowing that pressuring me would only result with more denial, and that she would wait until I was ready to discuss what had happened."

"So, I'm the only person you've told?" he asked, surprised that he had been her only confidant on the matter. Elizabeth's only response was a nod.

"But why tell me? Why would you think I would see you any differently?"

"Because I'm damaged. I'm no longer a new flower, and I would expect you to want that in a woman."

"Look me in the eyes and listen. Please. I could never think poorly of you. If anything, I am impressed by your strength and resilience. You are not damaged and you are not tainted. You are perfect. This is not your fault. If anything, this is my fault."

"How could this possibly be your fault? You weren't there. There is nothing you could have done."

Ashamed of himself, Darcy began to recount Wickham's actions that had plagued his history. He told her of how he knew the true nature of Wickham, but never told his father, for fear of disappointing him. He recounted the travesty that destroyed his younger sister's spirit. And then he admitted to doing nothing, thinking that revealing the true nature of Wickham would then also destroy Georgiana's reputation.

Shocked, Elizabeth tried to digest what she had just been told. It wasn't until she saw the pain that had so deeply taken root in Darcy did she finally reassure him.

"This is not your fault. The only one who is to blame is Wickham. He is the one who is at fault, not you."

"Nevertheless, he has now wronged the two most important women in my life, and if he still lives, I will do whatever I can to punish him. I will not reveal the truth of his actions against you. However, I will seek out any lead I can. If anything, I know he will have enough debts run up around the country that there will be little effort needed to send him to debtor's prison. He will pay for what he has done to you and to my sister, this I promise to you."

With this, all the pent-up feelings that she had allowed to fester, finally poured out. She wept in this mysterious new man's arms. She was glad she, for once in her life, had allowed her opinions to change, for in her heart, she knew him to be the best man of her acquaintance, and looked forward to getting to know him better.


	3. Chapter 3

After their conversation of great weight and tension, both parties silently agreed to change the tone of conversation to something much more light and happy. There were discussions of interests, intent to find as many mutually favorable occupations as possible. There was conversation of books and the values of so many as well as the advantages lent by walking and the best paths of which to partake of the exercise. From Shakespeare and Lord Byron to the grounds of Pemberley and the path to Oakham Mount. Every devisable topic was discussed until they both realized that the time would be approaching for the Mr. and Mrs. Collins and Maria Lucas to return to the parsonage. Reluctantly they agreed that it would be most prudent to return to the house.

"As much as I would wish to scream aloud about my luck in receiving your consent to court you, I also believe it would be wise to keep our arrangement quiet. I still wish to gain your father's approval of our courtship, and if my aunt or your cousin discover the truth, I daresay news will reach Longbourn well before I could reach your father's library. Not to mention, if my aunt learns of our arrangement, I daresay she would not hesitate a moment in her persecutions of yourself, and I do not wish to give my aunt the cut direct," sensibly advised Darcy.

"I believe I agree with you, and I would say that my father would only give my consent if I were present. I fear my previous dislike of you was no secret to my father," she said, pausing only to give Darcy's arm a reassuring squeeze. "However, I do believe it would also be advisable to have friends in on our secret. I would assume you would wish to tell your cousin anyway, and I doubt Charlotte would be able to stay willfully ignorant for long. She knows me to well for that."

With a coarse chuckle, he nodded in agreement. At this, they had reached the parsonage, and Darcy placed a lingering kiss on Elizabeth's knuckles before quickly turning on his heels and walking briskly back towards Rosings. Elizabeth watched as his silhouette approached the great house, surprised that she was having a hard time breathing after having his lips so delicately brush her hand.

Finally, Elizabeth tore herself from her contemplations and entered the house. Just as soon as Elizabeth sat down in her friends sitting room, she heard the approaching voices.

As soon as Charlotte laid eyes on her, she knew her friend could tell something was off. Elizabeth shook her head slightly, so unperceptively that no one else could notice. Understandingly, Charlotte excused herself and requested that Elizabeth accompany her all in one breath, an action that went uncommented upon by her husband who was already occupied by discussing the great virtues of the Lady Catherine de Borugh at Maria.

They were barely in Elizabeth's room before Charlotte began interrogating her friend.

"What has happened Lizzy? And do not waste our time pretending that you don't know what I'm talking about. We both know that there is a chance that Mr. Collins will soon follow us. Just tell me."

"I would, if you would ever stop questioning me," Elizabeth paused, giggling slightly at Charlotte's glare of frustration. "As much as I hate to admit it, you were right. Mr. Darcy has feelings for me."

With this statement, Charlotte flew over to the door and locked it, knowing that this would be a long conversation, and that she would not leave until she knew it all. She then immediately sat down next to Elizabeth, expectantly waiting the rest of the story.

Elizabeth told her friend about the proposal, and the horrible presentation of it. She explained that she could not marry a man who tore her dearest sister's happiness away.

"So, you rejected him, Lizzy?"

"I said no such thing, my dear Charlotte. You must stop with assuming so poorly of everyone," quipped Elizabeth. She once again laughed at her older friend's expression.

"Seriously Lizzy. Please tell me you at least rejected him with some civility. It would not do well to anger such a powerful man."

"Why do you assume I rejected him? I did not accept his proposal for marriage. Yes, that is true. But reject him? No, that notion is a little too severe, don't you think? Is it not possible that I made a suggestion? Proposed a compromise?"

At this, Charlotte was entirely to confused. She could not believe her headstrong friend not only refused the proposal of such a powerful man, but also be so impertinent to suggest a compromise. She had once more underestimated the willful nature of Lizzy. After a few moments of silent contemplation, she shot Elizabeth an inquisitive look, asking what type of suggestion she could have possibly made.

"Is it not obvious? I told him that he could ask to court me instead. My reasons where logical and justified. I wanted to offer him an opportunity to amend his slights and mistakes, for I hate holding grudges, especially when they become increasingly more emotionally confusing. It made more sense for us to discuss everything openly and without fear of propriety and opinions, and the pretense of a courtship was the most logical way to do such a thing. I, however, did not realize that by discarding all my hate, there would be nothing left for me to feel for the man but the most ardent love," Elizabeth admitted. The last statement, however, she had not realized to be true until she had spoken the words. She was in love with Mr. Darcy. She had gone from hate to love in a matter of hours. She began to giggle at herself slightly, euphoric with happiness. Upon seeing her friend's befuddled expression, her laughter only escalated.

"Lizzy, I don't understand. What has changed so remarkably that you could change your mind?"

Elizabeth was now in hysterics. She had not realized how inconceivable the turn of events had been. If her most logical and objective friend could not follow the story and believe her, who would. Once finally recovered, she explained how she had allowed Mr. Darcy a chance to explain everything, and how through his explanations, she was able to forgive him. After she had had no more reasons left to hate him, all that was left was an emotion that was just as intense, if not more so: love. Elizabeth, however, did keep the discussion of Wickham from her friend. That was still a topic that she wanted to belong strictly to herself and Mr. Darcy.

Unbeknownst to both ladies, a similar conversation was occurring between Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, less than a mile away in the study of Rosings.

While Darcy had not previously disclosed his plans to his cousin, the war experienced colonel knew the face of a man on a mission. He had suspected some affection towards the Hertforshire miss from his cousin for some time, and that night, the absence of both parties at dinner had assured him of it. He was not sure what the status of the relationship was, but he knew that Darcy was love sick, and that only a woman as strong-willed as Elizabeth Bennet would earn such admiration.

"Alright, how was Miss Bennet? Don't act surprised at my knowing. You have been traipsing around ever since we got to Kent, and after a missed meal and a walk in the park, you look like you are in the clouds."

"Is it that obvious? I don't wish Aunt Catherine to know, for I'd never hear the end of it."

"It is only obvious to people who know you well enough to see past the mask. And for as much as Aunt Catherine claims to know, you are one of the last things she will ever fully understand. And I promise, your secret is safe with me, because if she begins harping on you, all of Kent will hear, and I'm in Kent. Now answer the question," reassured Fitzwilliam, allowing a smirk to cover his face in amusement. He had suspected that Darcy would have at least tried to feebly deny it once. He must be truly besotted if he was so resigned to discuss such a personal matter.

"Very well. I went to the parsonage to ask Miss Elizabeth to marry me. She told me that she would not."

Out of all things, Fitzwilliam had not expected that. She had told his cousin no. The cousin that every woman from the ton had thrown herself at. The target of every mercenary momma in England. And the young miss from Hetforshire, of a family of a lower sum, had denied Fitzwilliam Darcy's proposal.

"I knew I liked her. She is the one woman in all of England to do what most men are afraid to do: deny Fitzwilliam Darcy anything. But, Darce, if she rejected you, why are you smiling like a damn fool."

"She told me to propose courtship instead. She said that my proposal for marriage was contemptible, and that the history of our acquaintance was so filled with mutual scorn that it would be impossible to accept me currently, but if we got to know each other better, maybe we might be able to revisit the idea later."

"She thought you hated her? You must have had that mask on so tight, because up close, its undeniable that you are in love with her. I would've said that she must be ignorant if she thought you hated her, but seeing as she is so magnificent as to provide you with a set down, reject your proposal, and then tell you what to ask instead, her being ignorant is entirely impossible."

"For once, I believe we are in agreement in our observations of a lady. In fact, I dare say she is the most intelligent person I have ever met. She may not have attended a school, but she has such an untamable curiosity. I truly am in love with her. She is brilliant, strong, and far kinder than she could ever understand. She is extremely humble, but not to a point of self-deprecation. She is more than I could have ever dreamed of for a wife. I just pray that she will come to forgive me."


	4. Chapter 4

That night, both Elizabeth and Darcy dreamed of their recent happiness. They both sub-consciously pontificated the possibilities of their futures, accounted for their luck in finding their perfect match, and most incessantly longed for the other. They had become bound, if not in name, in heart. They were no longer two separate people of different families, dissimilar positions in life, and uncommon dispositions. They were no longer concerned with the opinions of others, the society as a whole, of no one. They were forever two intertwined lives with the same heart. They were like two saplings that had wound together forming a sturdy tree that rose above the shades of concerns, so tall and strong and determined that there was no fungus or ax blade that could unbind them.

That love, however, did not imply they wanted to deal with Lady Catherine knowing the truth. The importance of keeping their secret became even more clear the next morning when each individual found out that the Mistress of Rosings had issued an invitation to the entire Hunsford party to return for dinner once more that evening.

"Oh, how courteous Lady Catherine de Bourgh is for her to condescend herself to host us two nights in a row. It is surely to reconcile your absence, cousin. Oh, you now most certainly need to come. To refuse would be a great insult to Lady Catherine," spouted Collins.

Elizabeth barely turned her head fast enough to mask the eye roll she could not help. In an attempt to avoid digging her own grave with her impertinence, she allowed her mind to wander to a tall, handsome gentleman that would most definitely be in attendance that evening. A glowing smile wrapped her face, and, unfortunately, Collins took notice.

"What do you find so amusing, cousin?" interrogated Collins.

"I am just so honored that Lady Catherine has offered to host us once again. I hope that my presence this evening will end any possibility of offence."

"Quite right," responded Collins, positively altercated by the quick mind of his cousin. Not one to end a conversation that has reached a resolution, Collins continued his rampage against the behavior of Elizabeth in the past, and how she should be taken to task after her actions. This speech would have typically caused great reproach from the vibrant woman, but instead, she sat quietly ignoring his rant as she daydreamed about her dark and no longer quite so mysterious suitor.

The rest of the day at the Hunsford parsonage was occupied by the continual ill-shapen scolding from Mr. Collins and the dazed preparations of Elizabeth and the knowing smiles of her dear friend.

At Rosings, Mr. Darcy was containing his thoughts as best as possible, but he was struggling to keep still. He was stressed about the possibilities of the nights events, delighted to see his angel again, and agitated with the annoying comments of Fitzwilliam. His cousin always enjoyed teasing him in his times of uttermost distress. The only person to ever out tease Fitzwilliam about Darcy was Elizabeth, and when she did it, it was endearing. When Fitzwilliam teased, it was just infuriating.

Darcy sat in the library, the study, and in his room, the three on a rotating cycle of about thirty minutes per location each, before he felt claustrophobic. His mind was muddled with worry that Aunt Catherine would discover the truth about his Elizabeth and with musings of how she was now his Elizabeth. He continued to live in this state until it was time to dress for dinner.

As soon as he came down to greet the anticipated guests, the party was announced. His heart bounded, and his palms became sweaty. He had never been so nervous, not even when he had proposed. Not even when he had received the most eloquent set down and second chance from his dear angel.

Thankfully, his fears subsided into an elated glow once he set his eyes on her celestial form. She had never been some common beauty. By typical standards, she would have been called plain with her angular features and tanned skin. But now, more than ever, he considered her the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld. The rich green color of her dress brought out the stunning gleam in her eyes that he always loved. The simple updo of her hair was elegant, framing her exquisite expression of a genuine smile.

The dinner was a tense affair. Lady Catherine questioned Elizabeth mercilessly. Elizabeth reflected every question with twice the skill. Darcy realized once more that she was the only woman for him, because she was the only woman ever strong enough to survive the verbal attacks of his aunt, not to mention her seemingly effortless handle of the entire situation.

Once the meal was over, the sexes split, as was customary. This was when Elizabeth finally lost her footing, not with her words, but with her expressions. As Mr. Darcy exited the room, Lady Catherine noticed the mutual admiration in the gazes exchanged. She knew she needed to stop this before it could begin.

"Miss Bennet, would you please come sit with me? I wish to continue our most interesting conversation."

"Most certainly Lady Catherine. I would never wish to disappoint you."

Lady Catherine slowly started with mundane questions, until she felt confident Miss Bennet did not expect the intent of the conversation, hoping to catch her of guard, so that she might have the upper hand.

"Are you engaged to him?" she asked with an abrupt force.

"No madam, I am engaged to no one. I wonder who you might have thought I have such an understanding with," Elizabeth slightly maneuvered. She was very happy that she did not have to lie, because while there was some understanding, there was no engagement. Yet.

"My nephew, you shameless girl" scowled Lady Catherine, agitated she did not faze the girl.

"Of course not, madam. I have only briefly known the Colonel. He is an honorable and kind gentleman to be sure, but he would need a rich wife, being the second son as you know. I am flattered that you would consider me a suitable match for him, but I dare say that arrangement would be entirely impossible," rebuked Elizabeth, proud of her shrewd dodge.

"Not that nephew. Darcy!" bellowed an unamused Lady Catherine.

"Madam, as you have said yourself, he has an understanding with your own daughter, so you cannot imagine he could have offered for me if he is already engaged. Furthermore, I daresay your nephew does not approve of my family."

"Get out! Leave my home at once. You may stay at Hunsford for the night, but you must leave in the morning. You are no longer welcome in my home. I never wish to see you again," the great lady resolutely screamed at Elizabeth.

At that moment, Darcy and the other men joined the women. Darcy looked from a vile, seething Lady Catherine to a blushing crossed Elizabeth. Lady Catherine knew somehow. Damn. And she couldn't make Elizabeth back down. I love that remarkable creature.

"Aunt Catherine! Miss Elizabeth and I are not engaged. You have no right to berate her. She has done nothing wrong. She was the one who rejected my proposal. She will be leaving tonight, as I will personally escort her home, where I will directly ask her father's permission to marry her. Then, I will ask her to marry me once more. Only once. She can accept or refuse, and that is her choice that she can make freely. You have insulted the woman I love, and you no longer have anything to say to me. I will not dishonor you with a public cut direct, but I will never speak to you again. Rosings will fail without my support and the only way to restore any good favor of mine is to apologize to Elizabeth and to support whatever arrangement we settle upon, alone."

With that, Darcy forcefully strode out of the room, informed his footmen of his plans, and then walked directly to the parsonage. Once there, he heard Collins scolding Elizabeth, and immediately stepped in.

"Collins, you may not blame your cousin for the events of the evening. Allow her to pack her things and send a maid with us to act as chaperone. I will send the girl back once we arrive at Longborne and she has been given an opportunity to rest. We shall leave tonight, and you have no say in the matter."


	5. Chapter 5

Within the hour, Elizabeth had packed all her belongings in her trunk and allowed Mr. Darcy to carry it out to the carriage. As she was wrapping her spencer around her shoulders, a young maid, Lucy, approached her.

"Miss Bennett, I would volunteer to accompany you as a chaperone," spoke the young woman. She then shot Elizabeth a sly, knowing look. Elizabeth immediately understood her meaning, and gratefully accepted the offer.

Once she said a quick farewell to her dear friend, Elizabeth climbed in to the carriage with the eager assistance of Mr. Darcy.

Once the trio was settled in the carriage, the two women faced the man. Lucy deliberately distracted herself with repairing a pair of gloves for her mistress. After a few minutes, Elizabeth noticed the girl had taken the same stitch out and restitched it several times already. She truly was a good girl who must have been properly informed by Elizabeth's most meddlesome friend.

No longer able to focus on any other distraction, Elizabeth finally looked up at the man opposite to her.

"I would have assumed you would be entirely to infuriated to have such a smug smile on your face. Pray, what could be so amusing, sir?"

"Several things amuse me. The outdoors, books, a good brandy," he replied, grinning rakishly.

"Mr. Darcy! A joke! Oh sir, I fear you have just proven me wrong once more, and this surprise is the most shocking of all," she quipped back, shooting him her magnificent grin.

"Ah, yes. I am quite the unpredictable variable. But, now, other than this exchange, two things most greatly amuse me. First of all, I am most thrilled that I get to leave Rosings early. The second, I have noticed your reluctance to look at me. It has been ten minutes before you even looked up at me. I suspect you only looked then because you had finally run out of any other distractions."

"Ah yes, sir. A most perceptive observation. I have tried to avoid your gaze purposefully, as I did not wish to witness any negative emotion spread across your face. But as I see, the exchange with your aunt has affected you differently than I had predicted."

"I might have been more agitated if I were not so elated by the turn of events."

They pair continued their banter for several more minutes, until they both realized that their company had fallen asleep. With a sly grin that betrayed his usually firm exterior, Mr. Darcy hinted his desire for her to sit next to him. Conspiratorially, Elizabeth accepted the silent invitation, moving gently over to the opposite bench. After she was situated, they joined hands and sat wordlessly, relishing the presence of the other.

They sat and remained there in each other's company, silently contemplating the things each had learned about the other, jus the day before. In the presence of each other, there was a calmness, an unspoken levity that moderated every emotion that could have coursed through their bodies. Mr. Darcy could contain his anger, his lethal bend on finally avenging every wrong Wickham had ever committed against him and the ones he loved. In place of that fury, remained a subdued joy, as he contemplated that he now only loved Elizabeth more, and despised Wickham more than ever. Elizabeth, while surprised by the truth of the most perplexing man, was able to focus solely on the feeling of relief that had washed still so recently over her. She felt years younger, lighter from finally escaping the torment of her secret. She still couldn't explain, even to herself, why out of anyone had she revealed the truth to Mr. Darcy.

After an immeasurable amount of time, as she couldn't be sure if it took five seconds or five hours, Elizabeth realized the truth. She loved this man. This man that only a few months ago she had sworn to loathe for all eternity. This man whose arrogance and pride slighted both her and her family. And yet, somehow, she loved him. She loved his smile, and how when he smiled at her, she felt content. She loved his laugh, and how it calmed her weary soul. She loved his mind, and how he would debate with her, exchanging witticisms and clever yet insightful remarks. But most importantly, she loved his heart. The heart that overruled the stoic man's indifferent mask. The heart that made him admit mistakes. The heart that felt responsible for the transgressions of others. The heart that loved her.

The only thing that surprised Elizabeth more than the fact that she loved him, most ardently, was that she had always loved him. She had just allowed her own hate, her blinding pride and prejudice, to eclipse everything. But now that she had seen it, had seen the truth, she knew she could never stop loving him. Not until she died, and even then, she was sure her heart would persevere, and continue to love him. Only this man could ever regain her good opinion.

Suddenly, she sat up and looked him squarely in the eyes.

"Yes, I will," she stated, more confident in those three words than she had ever been in anything.

Confused, Darcy looked down at her smiling face. He couldn't guess what she was talking about.

"You will what?"

She began to giggle, a sound that bubbled into the most cheerful laugh he had ever heard. After a few moments of consideration, Darcy's face lit up like a small child's one Christmas morning.

"You will?" he barely whispered, his voice brimming with emotions.

"Yes, I will marry you."

Before the words were fully out of her mouth, Darcy laid a chaste kiss on her lips.

Surprised, Elizabeth gasped. Thinking that he had scared her, Darcy immediately flinched backwards, placing as much space as possible in between them.

"I am terribly sorry Miss Elizabeth. I should had taken no such liberties, especially after what you told me," he said, trailing off in shame and worry that he had crossed a line.

Embarrassed and blushing, Elizabeth rounded up her courage and looked at Mr. Darcy, who was staring a hole into the floor boards. Slowly she approached him, and softly spoke.

"It's okay. I'm okay. I was just startled. I had not been expecting that. But, believe me when I say, you didn't scare me. I don't know what my limits are yet, and physical affection does put me on edge, but I will be okay. Just maybe ask. Asking is probably the safest option. I might be okay today, but I may not be as comfortable tomorrow. I know this will take some time, for me get back to myself, but I'm glad I have you now."

As she spoke, he gradually lifted his gaze back up to meet hers.

"But, I do know that I will always be okay with you calling me Elizabeth, or even Lizzy."

"Truly… Elizabeth?" he asked, still timid.

"Yes, truly. That is my name, is it not."

At her small jest, he let out a small chuckle.

"Then you must call me by my given name as well."

At this, she gave a most unexpected blush and giggle.

Concerned, he asked her what was so funny.

Shyly, all she did was looked up and said, "I would, if I knew what it was."

Realizing the irony of the situation, he mirrored her laughter.

After a few moments, he spoke. "My name is Fitzwilliam."

"Well that's no good. I cannot call you Fitzwilliam. Your cousin is Fitzwilliam. What does your sister call you?"

"Brother."

"No, I suppose that's no good either. And I know that Bingley and your cousin often call you Darce."

"My mother called me William."

Taken aback, Elizabeth stared at him speechless. He just smiled knowingly at her astonished expression. Tentatively, he walked towards Elizabeth, closing the gap that he had placed between them.

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth finally asked, still astounded by the suggestion.

"Of course. I mean, you are right. You can't call me Fitzwilliam, you already call Richard that. And obviously you can't call me brother. That would be awkward. No, I think it's perfect. Besides, I've always seen some similarities between you and what I remember of her."

Elizabeth's eyes were glistening, displaying all her emotions.

"Thank you, William."

"And thank you, Elizabeth, for giving me a second chance. I truly love you."

To Darcy's surprise, she reached up a delicate hand and stroked his check. Slowly, she then laid an even more delicate kiss on his lips. Finally, she leaned towards his ear and whispered the words he was dying to hear from her.

"I love you too."


	6. Chapter 6

"Lizzy!" screeched her mother, causing her to flinch and then begrudgingly groan. Thankfully, she had already moved back to her proper seat before they had reached Hertfordshire, for fear of causing a scandalous gossip topic. When she had moved, Lucy had conveniently awoken. At that point, Elizabeth mad a mental note to tell her friend to pay the girl more.

At the sound of reality, Elizabeth caught the gaze of her fiancé, and blushed from embarrassment. While she had never thought his initial proposal was anything to appreciate, she couldn't deny that some of his accusations were accurately founded.

Once the carriage had stopped, the trio exited, reviling themselves to the Bennetts that were present. Mrs. Bennett was bubbling and fretting over her daughters as usual. Mary had her nose shoved deep in the binding of a book, something proverbial most likely. Lydia and Kitty were screeching at each other of the finery of the carriage and how they could never understand why Mary would wish to read her sermons. Off to the side, Mr. Bennett had an uncommonly joyful expression, obviously thrilled to have his favorite daughter back home.

Before anyone could say anything, Mr. Darcy addressed the elder gentleman, presenting a reason he had accompanied Elizabeth. This explanation was given at the prior request of Elizabeth, as she wanted her fiancé to have a chance to speak with her father before being ambushed by the flustering of Mrs. Bennett and the abrasive flirtations of the younger Bennett girls. He said that he had some business about his own estate that he had wished to discuss with the patriarch, and that he had offered to bring Elizabeth for convenience sake. The excuse had been decided upon because it seemed the most believable, it would never provide any indication of intentions to Mrs. Bennett, and it was not inherently a lie.

Once everyone was settled and the luggage had been unloaded, Elizabeth was escorted off with the women. They bombarded her with questions of finery and gentlemen and their dear friend, the new Mrs. Collins. When she had been asked about Charlotte, Elizabeth could hear the accusation in her mother's voice, but she decidedly ignored it. The young woman was too happy with the knowledge of what Mr. Darcy and her father were truly discussing to be truly bogged down.

After an immeasurable segment of time, Elizabeth received a summon from her father. She joyful escaped the raptures of her mother to enter the familiar sanctuary of her father's study. What she found there, however, surprised her. The two men she most cared about were far too tense for the results of the conversation to be pleasant.

Bracing herself, Elizabeth sat down in her favorite armchair and waited patiently for her father to speak. After several moments, the elder gentleman turned to face his daughter, a melancholy, stern expression on his face.

"Why, Elizabeth, would you not tell me?"

Surprised, Elizabeth immediately grew defensive. "Whatever do you mean? I was wrong upon my initial impression of him, and once I realized I had been so ignorant, I then changed my opinion of him greatly. I could not have told you any sooner, sir."

"No, my dear, you misunderstand me. Mr. Darcy has explained everything to me, and I know exactly how you must see him now. I have granted him my blessing, as I can tell that for you my darling, the only option of such intense hatred is an even more valiant affection. Besides, who am I to deny this man anything he asked? No, I am mad because You never told me about that monster, Mr. Wickham."

Instantly, Elizabeth turned her head to face her fiancé, agitation clearly on her face.

"Why on Earth would you tell him that?"

"Because, my dear, at the moment, you father is still your protector. He needs to know of any threats that face you and your sisters. I know that you are mad, I suspected you would be. And I understand why. You trusted me with a secret, and I immediately tell someone. But the thing is, my dear, I care about you too much to not tell your father."

Agitatedly, Elizabeth gave a curt nod in understanding. She might not like it, but she understood why he did it.

"So, we have your permission?" she asked her father, trying to change the topic.

"Yes, but stop changing the subject. You should have told me. What if the something had happened to your sisters? I realize that I might not always be the most present father, but I would not wish any of my children to experience that. God forbid, I fear some of your sisters would have even encouraged the rake!"

Resigned to the conversation, Elizabeth nodded gently.

"I'm sorry father. It all happened so fast, and I felt so lost. I just wanted to forget about it, pretend it never happened. By telling you, it would have been real. I would have had to think about it. So I hid it from you so I could hide it from myself."

"Alright, well we can discuss this all later. Go enjoy the company of your gentleman, with a chaperone of course. I must tell your mother about the union, and I suspect you would not want to be anywhere near here when I do."

"Yes, father," sighed Elizabeth as she got up to leave. She was silently followed by Mr. Darcy, who gave Mr. Bennett a bow before exiting. Elizabeth directly found Lucy, a preferred chaperone. The two women then met Mr. Darcy in the gardens, where they began their long walk towards Oakham Mount.

They had been walking in silence for about two minutes when they heard the bellows of Mrs. Bennett. With a grown, Elizabeth apologized for the behavior of her mother and gave her fiancé a knowing smirk.

It was only moments after this exchange that Elizabeth realized that it was the first time since that fateful day that she had walked this path. At this realization, her breathe caught and she grew unsettled, losing her bearings.


	7. Chapter 7

Elizabeth only comprehended what had happened after the series of events was over. She had been walking with Mr. Darcy, the man she had been irritated with, even though she understood his actions. She had been walking with him along the path towards Oakham Mount, and she had become distracted by the irony of it all. In her distraction, she had stepped into a small hole, only big enough to catch her foot. It brought her down, hard, into the mud.

Once reality sunk in, she looked around. The landscape was wobbling, and she was unable to focus on a single point. Then she saw Darcy leaning over her, shock covering his face.

"William," she whispered. It must have been slurred because the word made his body go stiff and the shock morphed into horror.

By now, Lucy had caught up, worry clear on her face as well.

"Is she alright, sir?"

"No. Go back to Longborne. Tell them they must send for a doctor immediately. Miss Bennett has hit her head and has probably broken her ankle. Go, run quickly."

"Are you going to wait here, sir?"

"No, I'm going to carry her back. If we wait here, she will most likely catch cold, only increasing the severity of her condition."

"Yes sir," she said before turning and running towards the house.

Darcy then turned back around to face Elizabeth. Without hesitation, he took off his coat and pulls Elizabeth up to a sitting position so that he could wrap it around her. Then, he bends down and lifts her up, with one arm holding her by the back and the other supporting her knees.

After a few seconds, Elizabeth spoke up. "William, what are you doing?"

"I'm taking you back to Longborne, my dear. You have hit your head, and I am very worried that you are hurt," he responded sweetly, fear and concern evident in his voice.

"I think I'll feel better if I can just get some rest," she softly cooed, tucking her head to his chest. The movement makes him flinch. He wants so much to be able to comfort her like this, but he knows even carrying her back to the house is quite scandalous, but he doesn't care. He is also aware that she must be kept awake until she can be seen by a doctor.

"No, my dear. You must stay awake. Look at me. Talk to me about, something, anything," he pleads.

"What about?" her voice is growing even more slurred and distant.

Franticly, Darcy quickened his step and searched his mind for a simple topic.

"Why don't you tell me about your favorite book? I don't believe I know what your favorite is."

She begins telling him about her favorite novels and how the characters are beautifully developed. She mutters on, explaining every facet of her favorites, while he carried on, solely focused on the sound of her voice and the decreasing distance between him and Longborne. Lucy had already made it back he could tell. He just hoped that doctor would be quick.

After an excruciatingly long amount of time, he finally reaches the house. Once inside, he is able to set his beautiful Elizabeth down, as she continued to babble about books and characters. No matter how much her slurred tongue hurt to hear, he knew it was better than her sleeping, and he took silent refuge in the fact that she was at least awake.

After what felt like hours, the doctor arrived, and everyone was asked to leave the room. Darcy fought with everything he had, until finally Mr. Bennett convinced him to convene in his study for the time being. As soon as Darcy was closed behind the thick door, Mr. Bennett poured a drink and handed it to him. Darcy immediately drank it, allowing the liquid to slide down his throat so fast that he couldn't taste it. Hastily, he sat down the glass and began pacing back and forth. Mr. Bennett watched on. He, too, was worried for his favorite daughter, but he knew she would be alright.

So instead of pacing himself, the older man sat down and watched as the young man marched back and forth between the stacks of books. Amused, Bennett was able to realize several things. The most blatant was that, even though Mr. Darcy was a tall man of a strong build, he seemed so weak and helpless. The confident, proud, man he had talked with only hours before was now gone, cloaked by a frail form of worry, a man desperate to protect the woman he loved. And that cleared the way for the more shocking revelation: Mr. Darcy was a completely changed man from the one that had arrived in Hertfordshire several months prior. This man was changed because he had not only fallen deeply in love with the only woman who was brave enough to challenge him, but a man who had earned the love a brilliant woman that had been able to grant him forgiveness.

When he had first been asked for Elizabeth's hand, he was convinced of Elizabeth's indifference. He thought she may have only soften her resolve against him, in leu of the truth, and that the affections were slightly one sided. He had assumed that she no longer hated Darcy, and that he was going to be the best offer she was going to receive. He had assumed that his daughter had resigned to being pragmatic, and that she would rather marry this man than any other she had met before. But seeing the conviction and fear in the face of this once proud man, Mr. Bennett knew that only the most passionate love had been kindled between the two. He was not sure what had caused such a switch, and he doubted he would ever truly understand.

This revelation warmed his heart, though, making him smile wider at the anxious man that was wearing a hole through his floor.

"What do you find so amusing sir? Are you not worried for your daughter's health? Was I mistaken in assuming that she was your favorite?"

"Oh, my good man. I am worried for my daughter, as yes, she is the one I feel most closely bound. But as you wear a route into my floor, it is relieving many of the fears I have always had for her. While her mother's greatest wish is to see her daughters wed, I only hope they find happiness. I can see now that you truly love her and that you fear to lose the love she returns. That love and happiness amuses me greatly."

This stills the man, forcing him to turn around and face Mr. Bennett.

"Did you think she could never find love? How could any woman so magnificent not be loved?"

"No, I knew that there would be a man that would love her. I knew that some fool would fall for that wit and cleverness that accompanies her tenacity and courage. I was just worried that she would not find happiness with said man. She is often sad and lonely, and she covers her pain with her sharp tongue and bright smile. But I can see that she will be happy with you, just by the love you have for her."

Dumbfounded, Darcy just nodded slightly. After a few moments of absolute silence, the door cracked open, and Lucy peaked her head in.

"She is asking for you."


	8. Chapter 8

Darcy immediately joined Elizabeth in the sitting room. The doctor had just left, after telling her that she had twisted her ankle when she fell and that while she had hit her head, there should not be any long-term effects. Aggravated, she hesitantly agreed to obey to all the recommendations given by the older man. He had suggested that she remain still and quiet for the rest of the day for the benefit of her head, and then more hesitantly suggested that she avoid her famous rambles for the next few days. Elizabeth had said she understood and would adhere to the recommendations, but informed him that she was not happy about it.

Once Darcy had situated himself in a chair across from here Elizabeth was sitting with her foot propped up on a small stool, she allowed some of the tension stored in her shoulders to fade.

"William, I am fine. The scowl of yours is even more prominent, and that must mean you are overly concerned. Other than a slight headache and the annoyance of missing my walk for the near future, I am quite alright."

"I know, I was just so worried. You were slurring your words and I assumed the worst."

Elizabeth just smiled at his concern. She was slightly worried that her would stifle her with concern, but thankfully, she had not reached that bridge yet.

They remained in silent company until dinner. They sat in silence, allowing Elizabeth's head a respite as they both enjoyed each other's silent company. Every few hours, the chaperone of the party was replaced, all of whom allowed the couple as much privacy as was socially acceptable.

After the meal, the gentleman was shown to his guest quarters where he retired to for the rest of the evening. He had silently rejoiced that the matriarch of the household had contained her elation for the sake of her daughter's health, but safely assumed that the calm would span a finite amount of time.

The following days were spent with only slightly more noise. He would sit with Elizabeth in the gardens or in the sitting room, and occasionally in her father's study, and enjoy the company of his future wife. He would read to her from novels or collections of poetry of great epics. He would often tell her stories of his family or his childhood. He enjoyed listening to her eloquent tales of adventure through the woods or the adventures she had with Jane and Charlotte. She would splice in colorful remarks of wit that were the bane of her mother's existence and one of his favorite things about the vibrant woman.

As the days went by, she grew more stir crazy, itching to roam around the countryside in a simple bonnet, allowing the wind to cause wisps of hair to break free if its grasp. He tried to sooth her anxiousness, but he slowly realized that she just needed a change of pace. She craved adventure and he could not help her.

"I am so sorry that you are trapped up in here. I know you dearly love to walk, just as much as you enjoy a great laugh."

"You know me well, sir. I am growing irritated with this monotony."

"I know, my dear. Lucky, tomorrow is the day the doctor said you can try walking again. He said to start off slow and short, but at least it's something."

"Indeed, it is," she replied with a gleeful smile.


End file.
